


How to Attend a Party

by TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone



Series: The Sorceress, The Witcher, The Bard and a Girl [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Drunk!Jaskier, Geralt Dancing, Geralt is a good Papa, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Good times all around really, Multi, Pampering, Soft!Geralt, Soft!Jaskier, Until they aren't, fancy parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone/pseuds/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone
Summary: Geralt gets Jaskier going on his contract, little do they know they're bringing a plus one with them. Ciri learns quite a few lessons, some she doesn't value right away. Geralt attends a party and Jaskier gets drunk.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer
Series: The Sorceress, The Witcher, The Bard and a Girl [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584583
Comments: 26
Kudos: 251





	How to Attend a Party

“Now, you’re in charge while Gerry bear and I are off on our little venture.” Jaskier looked at himself in the mirror as he adjusted the clasp on his new cloak, a gift from Geralt, “It should only be a day or two, think you can handle that?”

Ciri was perched on the footboard of the big master bed, her head cocked to the side, “So, what do you do when you aren’t playing music? I can’t imagine people are dancing _all_ the time.”

“I charm the pants off courtiers and nobles,” Jaskier smirked and turned, tapping her on the nose, “Mingle and network, my sweet bodkin, it’s how I’ve sung for my supper all across the land.”

“Geralt says you chase a lot of skirts too.” Ciri cocked an eyebrow, fiddling with one of Yennefer’s perfume bottles.

Jaskier blinked and cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a fair bit of mingling on all fronts. Keeps the tedium at bay.”

Ciri hopped down to follow him downstairs, setting the bottle down and wiping her hands on her trousers, “Why?”

“Because I enjoy it.” Jaskier shrugged, “It’s why Geralt has me and Yennefer around, more the merrier!”

“Oh, alright then,” Ciri held the door open for him, “Your chariot awaits, your foppiness!”

“Foppi- where did you pick that up from? I’m not a fop! I’m the very model of a man’s man, thank you!” The bard huffed indignantly.

Jaskier sidestepped a few retreating customers and then out to where Yennefer and Geralt were waiting. The Witcher already seated on Roach and Yen held Aderon’s reins, her eyebrow cocked, “Certainly you are.”

“In livery like that?” Geralt cocked an eyebrow too, exchanging looks with Yen.

Jaskier frowned, “Ciri cover your ears.”

Ciri blinked, “Why?”

“I’m about to say something not meant for them.” Jaskier crossed his arms, Ciri shrugged and pressed the palms of her hands to her ears. Once the bard was certain he couldn’t be heard, he leaned over to Geralt and said in a hushed tone, “That’s not what you said when you rode my cock last night.”

Geralt’s ears reddened and he cleared his throat, “Hmm.”

“Mhm.” Jaskier nodded and smirked, turning to signal the all clear to Ciri then he squatted down, taking her hands, “I have a few songs in my head about a fearless little girl and a great shadow cat. Think it’ll be a hit.”

“I’m pretty sure I pissed myself that night, not the most heroic moment for a song.” Ciri mumbled doubtfully.

Jaskier leaned forward, looking up at her through his long eyelashes, “Between you and me, I think every hero pisses themselves at least once.” he kissed her forehead, “What do I always say?”

Ciri giggled, “Talk faster than your feet can run and you’ll always get out of trouble.”

“There’s my girl.” Jaskier gave her a tight hug before taking Aderon’s reins, “I leave you in very capable hands, my raven queen.” 

Yennefer rolled her eyes but accepted a slow kiss, “Before the sun sets, hm? The road has been rather treacherous at night these days.”

“Oh don’t worry, I have no intention of being more than a few inches from Geralt at all times.” Jaskier nodded to himself and drew the cloak tighter around himself as a stiff autumn breeze blew past, “ . . . might need to watch the weather as well . . . “

“Hm,” Geralt nodded and turned Roach, “I should be back tomorrow by midday.”

“Alright, be safe.” Yennefer kissed him on the cheek then walked over to the gate.

Ciri hurried over to Geralt, “Wait, can I ride with you til you reach the gate?”

“I don’t see why not.” Geralt leaned down and grabbed Ciri by the back of her belt and easily lifted the girl up into his saddle.

“Whoa!” Ciri clutched at the front of the saddle then settled back against Geralt, her own cloak pulled tightly around her small frame, “So is it going to be a big party?”

Geralt put an arm securely across Ciri’s waist, “Engagement parties are always a big deal with nobles . . . lots of partying and nonsense . . . “

“They’re fun!” Jaskier smiled widely, adjusting his lute on his back, “So much conversation and card games, dancing and singing and oh, the _food_ Ciri! So much food!” He smiled widely, “Some day soon I’ll take you to the city and show you how the elite live! Maybe finally get you into a nice dress-”

Ciri blanched, “I’ll skip that bit, thank you!”

“You’d look so pretty in a dress, Cirilla!” Jaskier huffed.

Geralt chuckled, “Wouldn’t you like a dress or two?” 

“Can’t really fight in a dress, can you?” Ciri muttered, “Bunch of stuff and nonsense if you ask me!”

“Alright, no dresses,” Jaskier smiled.

They came to the town’s gate and halted the horses, Geralt nodded, “This is your stop, Ciri, I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

Ciri crawled down and nodded, “Okay, have a good trip Jask, keep him safe, Geralt!”

“Will do.” Geralt smiled at her then lead the way out the gate with Jaskier turning to wave in the saddle.

Jaskier sighed and urged Aderon forward to catch up to Geralt, “I’m going to miss her . . . I know it’s only a week but I’m so rarely far from home.”

Geralt nodded, “I try to think more about what I’m coming home to rather then what I’m leaving behind every time.”

“I’ll bet. You and Yen are always going off for a few days here and there . . . “ Jaskier frowned, “Gosh what a strange, domestic little life I’ve acquired.”

“Fucks with the mind, doesn’t it?” Geralt smiled, patting Roach’s neck.

* * *

Yennefer had a very productive morning, making a slew of sales and even had requests for some of her more complex spells, all in all, she was exhausted as she decided to close early and get something going for supper. She was just about to head up to the kitchen when she heard something in the alley. Yen frowned and moved toward the back door and around to the side where she saw Darin calling up to Ciri’s bedroom window, “Excuse me but what are you doing?”

Darin startled and blinked at her, “Oh, uh, um, beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am. I was just wonderin’ if, um, Ciri was home?”

Yennefer cocked an eyebrow, “You’re . . . Darin Jebbson, aren’t you? The blacksmith’s son?”

Darin swallowed and wrung his cap between his hands, “Y-Yes ma’am, I am.”

“I was under the impression your father wasn’t overly fond of us?” She narrowed her eyes as the gangly boy fidgeted under her violet gaze.

“He ain’t but uh, how’d Ciri put it? ‘His views are not reflective o’ m’own’.” Darin shrugged, “Ciri’s my best mate, don’ care wot he says, ‘botu any o’ ya.”

Yennefer relaxed her expression and she sighed, “Well, she’s not here.”

He furrowed his brow, “Oh, so she did go with ‘em.”

“She just rode with Geralt and Jaskier to the gate-”

“She went past the gate, she wasn’ that far b’hind ‘em.” Darin scratched at his scalp, “ . . . I did think it was weird that Jaskier waved at her . . . “

Yennefer closed her eyes and breathed in slowly through her nose, “ . . . gods fucking dammit.”

* * *

Ciri ducked behind the tree, pulling her hood up over her head as she carefully picked her way through the undergrowth, the wind had picked up and she could hear snatches of what Jaskier and Geralt were saying here and there but she was far more interested in staying undetected. They’d been traveling for several hours and the wind started to pick up, bringing a flurry here and there with it and heralding an early frost. Ciri blew on her hands and wished she’d thought to bring gloves . . . or a thicker cloak . . . or boots.

“Do you think it’ll get worse out?” Jaskier asked a bit nervously.

“Possibly, we are due for a frost . . . “ Geralt muttered, looking up at the cloudy sky, sniffing the air, “The road is surprisingly clear for once . . . “

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Jaskier pulled the hood of his cloak up around his head.

“It’s not a ‘bad’ thing, it’s a very ‘suspicious’ thing.” Geralt shrugged one shoulder, “We’re making good time traveling.”

“I assume you’re spending the night with me at the Lord’s castle before the party?” Jaskier asked.

“I had thought to travel straight back but Roach wouldn’t appreciate that with a possible storm rolling in I don’t think.” Geralt patted Roach’s neck and the mare knickered at him.

Ciri grimaced, ducking down behind a large boulder, so walking all the way to the castle with bad weather coming was now a very bad idea and she felt her guts churning a bit. Originally she thought to just follow Geralt and Jaskier there and back undetected for as long as possible, Ciri could now see that she’d once more not thought things through and she was going to probably get in trouble again. She bit her lip and looked up at the clouds, well-

Geralt frowned and turned in his saddle when he heard twigs breaking and a few bushes shifted as Ciri stepped onto the road, the Witcher blinked slowly, “Jaskier, stop.”

Jaskier turned and the smile fell off his face, “Oh no . . . “

Ciri grimaced, shivering, “So, I can explain-”

Geralt and Jaskier both got off their horses and walked back to her, the bard was first to her though, “Do I even have to _ask_ what you think you’re doing out here?”

Geralt crossed his arms, his jaw tightened and he grabbed Ciri’s arm, pulling her close, “Does Yennefer know you’re out here?” 

“N-No,” Ciri flinched, “I followed from the gate.”

“You didn’t tell Yen you-” Jaskier groaned and quickly reached into his shirt, pulling a ring on a chain out, “I’ll get a hold of her.” and he stepped off to the side.

Geralt turned his attention back to Ciri, the girl smiled shakily and cleared her throat, “If it makes you feel better, I _was_ just going to follow you.” 

Geralt’s scowl deepened, “So we didn’t learn our lesson from the panther, did we, Cirilla?”

“I did! I’m out with you, I stayed close and I didn’t take a weapon that wasn’t mine!” Ciri gestured to Darin’s knife on her belt.

Geralt stared at it, “ . . . where did you get that?”

“Darin made it for me.” Ciri explained, fidgeting slightly.

Geralt blinked, this did not lighten his mood any, “I see. Well apparently you can’t understand your boundaries,” his jaw clenched and he shook his head, “We’re too fucking far now to turn back and take you home, so you’ll come with us and then back with me and from there on out, young lady, you are _not_ to leave the town walls without an adult! When you aren’t doing your chores or training, you’re to be inside helping Yennefer with the store or doing your lessons. Am I _perfectly_ clear, Cirilla?” 

Ciri looked down at her feet, snuffling, “Crystal, sir.”

“Good.” He took her back to Roach and put her up in the saddle then turned to Jaskier, “Well?”

Jaskier turned and tucked the enchanted ring back in his shirt, “She is . . . very angry.”

“Did she want to talk to me?” Geralt asked, glancing up at Ciri who was staring down at the saddle.

“She trusts you to deal with it until you get home.” Jaskier grimaced, looking up at Ciri, “I don’t think I need to tell you that you are in a _lot_ of trouble.”

Ciri shook her head slowly and snuffled, shivering as the wind picked up, “No, sir.”

“Good.” Jaskier got back on Aderon, “We should get moving before the storm rolls in.”

Geralt mounted Roach, his arm tightly around Ciri’s waist, tucking his heavier black cloak around her. She looked slowly at Geralt then back down, “Don’t you want to know how I got away with it up to this point?”

“ . . . you rode with me to the gate, your scent would have been close so I would assume if I smelled you, it was just the old scent and you stayed downwind of us.” Geralt grunted and shifted his weight, “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t angry with you.”

“I’m sorry . . . “ Ciri said softly.

“I’m finding it hard to believe you,” Geralt said sternly, “Are you sorry you had to get caught or that you did this?”

“ . . . “ Ciri slumped slightly, “Bit of both, really.”

“And that’s how the panther incident came about.” Jaskier said, turning to look at them, “Your penchant for throwing yourself into dangerous situations is starting to become a death wish.”

“Usually you’re on my side.” Ciri grumbled.

“Not when your life is on the line.” Jaskier voice rose a bit and he genuinely looked very cross.

Ciri shrank into Geralt’s cloak and snuffled, “ . . . I thought I’d be safer if I was following you.”

“Not if we don’t know you’re with us!” Geralt growled, “We’ll discuss this later.”

“Yes, sir.” Ciri mumbled.

* * *

Ciri’s mouth dropped open as she looked up at the castle, there was a flurry of activity as people ran back and forth carrying boxes, crates, and jugs, horses were being lead about as room was being filled up, “And this goes on for a _whole week_?”

“Yep!” Jaskier smiled around until a boy came up to take their horses, “Well, things will settle down when other people finally arrive but it’ll be a flurry of activity!”

Geralt dismounted and reached up to help Ciri down, keeping her still tucked to his side, “Hmm.”

“You don’t like parties?” Ciri asked, looking up at the witcher.

“I don’t like a lot of noise and drunk people.” Geralt muttered, “Let’s get our room, it’s getting colder out here.”

* * *

Ciri was bundled up in front of a fire while Jaskier unpacked and Geralt spoke with Yennefer through the ring. The girl grimaced and pulled the heavy blanket tighter around her shivering body, she glanced over at the white-haired witcher and slowly wiggled out of blanket and wandered over, “Geralt?”

Geralt held up a finger and slipped the ring off his hand, “Yes?”

“Is she going to portal to come get me?” Ciri asked softly.

“No, since I’m turning around and going back home in the morning, she isn’t going to waste the energy.”

Ciri fiddled with slack of her belt, “Are you very angry with me?”

He didn’t answer right away then he turned to her and regarded the child with a steady eye, “I am more angry at your lack of common sense or self-preservation than your actions. That makes for an impulsive and dangerous combination,” Here he cocked an eyebrow, “One ill-fittiing of a Witcher, let alone a monster-hunter of any stripe,” Geralt leaned forward, “Do you understand me?”

Ciri bit her lip and nodded, “Yes. Is . . . Is Yen mad at me?”

“She certainly wasn’t overly happy to find out you’d taken off on her.” Jaskier said from the bed where he was setting out different outfits.

“She is happy to hear you’re safe, but yes, she’s pretty upset with what you did.” Geralt agreed, he pointed a finger at Ciri still frowning, “Yennefer is of the mind that maybe you aren’t mature enough for this, that I’m making a mistake carrying on and I’m starting to think she might be right.”

“N-No! I can do it, I won’t do this again, I promise!” Ciri said desperately, “I can keep training, I’ll take it seriously!”

“You mean _now_ you’ll take it seriously.” Geralt stood up, “The first time almost got you killed, this time we’re a day away from home! What if something had happened now? If we’d gotten separated or you fell behind? Then what?”

“But I kept up!” Ciri insisted.

“Yes, _this_ time! You’ve been lucky twice, Cirilla, those odds won’t always be in your favor!” Geralt shouted, losing his temper this time, “I can’t keep turning around to make sure you aren’t doing something stupid every five minutes!”

Ciri flinched and her eyes welled up with tears, she dropped her gaze to her boots and made a sound in the back of her throat, “I-I’m sorry . . . “

“You had better be this time! These mistakes are going to cost you your fucking _life_! This isn’t a game, this isn’t fun, I don’t care what the songs say, this is life or death and if you can’t understand that then you aren’t ready and I’m not risking your life so you can pretend to be a Witcher!” 

Ciri’s shoulders shook and her lower lip was held tightly between her teeth, “Y-Yes, s-s-sir.”

“Good. Glad we have an understanding!” Geralt sat back down, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing slowly.

Jaskier slowly sat on the edge of the bed and he licked his lips, “Ciri, it’s just because we don’t want you to get hurt-”

“I-I know.” Ciri said to her boots, snuffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve, “Was s-stupid . . . “

“Well, this is how we learn from our mist-”

“I’ll n-never be a W-Witcher.” Ciri turned and ran to the small room adjacent to Jaskier’s and slammed the door closed.

Geralt threw his hands up and groaned, “Because _that’s_ what I meant . . . “

“She’s just upset, she’ll calm down and be rational again.” Jaskier moved over to Geralt and patted his shoulder, “Let’s just give her a second to not have to look at us for a bit, hm?”

“Hmm.” Geralt leaned into Jaskier, “Feels more like I’m fucking this up.”

“I dunno, seems like you’re doing your best,” Jaskier shrugged, kissing the top of Geralt’s head, “Also, pretty sure if you did the opposite of what you did and she’d be running around in the swamp trying to off Drowners and panthers and then where will that get her? Dead, that’s where. Look, Gerry Bear, don’t beat yourself up too badly over it, that’s the monsters’ job.”

Geralt cocked an eyebrow, “I told you not to call me that.”

Jaskier leaned down to whisper in Geralt’s ear, “And I told you that I do what I want.”

“Jask, I can only deal with one brat at a time, thanks.” Geralt grabbed the bard and pulled him into his lap to hug him tightly, “I don’t like being the bad guy . . . “

“You do have the best yelling voice though,” Jaskier grimaced and ran his fingers through Geralt’s hair, “She’ll be better for it, you’ll see.”

Geralt grimaced, “ . . . I hope so . . . “

* * *

Ciri wiped at her face and glared out the window, she slowly moved to the door and peeked out, Jaskier wasn’t there but Geralt was sitting in front of the fire, staring intently into the flames. She slowly moved out and closed the door behind her, shuffling to be a bit closer to Geralt, “ . . . I’m hungry.”

Geralt cocked an eyebrow and turned to look over his shoulder at her, “Dinner will be served shortly.”

“Okay.” She stood there for a moment or two then she pulled up another chair and sat near him. They sat in silence for some time before she opted to speak again, “Where’s Jask?”

“Mingling. He likes to get in amongst guests early, find out who’s purses are the heaviest.” Geralt shrugged, “I’d rather be away from all that.”

“Oh.” Ciri licked her lips and peeked at him, “ . . . I’ve been making you very angry lately.”

“You certainly are taking more risks than you did before.” Geralt looked at her, “I’m not _angry_ at you, you scare the shit out of me by doing very dangerous, risky things and _that_ angers me. Each time you do that, I think training you to fight is really just setting you up for doing something that will get you killed.”

Ciri looked down at her hands, “I’m sorry . . . “

Geralt turned on his stool and reached over to take her hands in his larger ones, “I don’t want to lose you, Ciri, I want to someday be a very old Witcher sitting by a hearth listening to songs all about your triumphs.”

Cir swallowed and breathed out shakily, “I want that too, really bad.”

“I can tell, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves anymore, alright? You’ll get your chance to come with me on hunts and I want you there with me.” He put their foreheads together gently and sank his hand in her thick hair, “I might not look like it but I’m just as anxious for that as you are and I’m a _very_ patient person.”

“I-I just want to go with you _now_.” Ciri squeezed her blue eyes shut and put her arms around his neck.

Geralt pulled her into his lap, “I know you do, my little lion cub, but you’re not there yet. We’ll get there.”

“Oh good we’re all huggy and happy again!” Jaskier leaned on the doorjamb and smiled, “If we’re getting hungry, supper will be served within an hour.”

Ciri looked up and wiped at her eyes, then she looked at Geralt for permission and the Witcher stood up, setting the girl on her feet, “Shall we go to supper?”

“What, you aren’t going to make me eat water and bread crust in my cell, Lord Commandant?” Ciri asked with wide eyes.

Geralt huffed, “Very funny, smart ass. Do you want supper or not?”

“Yes, please!” Ciri hurried over to take Jaskier’s hand but stopped when she saw he wasn’t alone.

A young woman, probably only a few years older than Ciri, with long, very curly black hair and dark brown eyes that seemed to sparkle in a purple and blue mantle over a spring green gown and a small silver circlet was hanging on his arm, giggling softly, Jaskier glanced at her and smiled, “Ah, my manners, where did I leave them? Ciri, this is Lady Moira, the young lord’s new fiance. Lady Moira, this is the little she-devil herself, Cirilla.”

“Master Dandelion has been telling me all about your exploits.” Lady Moira gave her a knowing look, “Course time will come for you to grow out of such nonsense and take a husband, hm?”

Ciri wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth to respond but Geralt pressed his palm to her lips before she could speak, she glared up at him and made a disgruntled noise. Geralt cleared his throat, “I doubt Ciri takes that as a positive, m’Lady, we’ve tried.”

“Oh,” Lady Moira bent down, her hands on her knees, “You come with me and I’ll show you what you’re missing! You’ll be my little pet!”

Ciri made another noise but Geralt made her nod her head, “I think she might enjoy that, m’Lady, so long as you can keep her out of trouble?”

Lady Moira laughed, a musical, light and a little patronizing in volume as she straightened, her hands clasped at her waist, “Shall I get her a leash? Does she bite?”

The corner of Jaskier’s mouth twitched when he saw the line of Geralt’s brow’s hardening, the lady was pushing her luck with the jokes, he quickly swooped in, smiling widely, “If it pleases your ladyship, perhaps Ciri would be happier staying with u-”

“No, by all means,” Geralt said, moving his hand with a slight grunt when Ciri tried to bite or lick his palm, he put his hands firmly on her shoulders, “If her ladyship wishes to entertain Cirilla as her personal guest then I should say it would be _very rude_ to decline especially during her engagement party, wouldn’t you say, Ciri?” He gave her a pointed, perhaps a little amused, look and she scowled briefly before turning a wide, closed-eye smile at the Lady.

“I’d love to! Does m’Lady know any of the Witcher’s songs? Or his tales? I know them all by heart.” She moved up and held a hand out to Moira.

The young Lady frowned at the offered hand as it was . . . rather dirty, “I’m sure if they are as entertaining as Master Dandelion has eluded, I’d love to hear them . . . after you’ve had a bath.” 

Ciri left with the lady, giving Geralt the **_ugliest_ **look over her shoulder Geralt had yet to see on a human’s face but Jaskier leaned an arm up on the witcher’s shoulder and he was clearly trying desperately to hold it together, “She’s going to kill me in my sleep.”

“You are the _deadest_ man that has ever had the misfortune to walk the earth.” Jaskier hissed as he wrangled his giggling, “I have _never in my life_ seen someone look so ready to murder and I’ve seen you in a tavern after a bad hunt! Shall we lock her door tonight?”

Geralt smiled, “You’ll protect me, won’t you, my dandelion?”

“I’m not getting between you two for all the orens in Temeria.” Jaskier chuckled.

* * *

Ciri suffered through an overly perfumed bath, having her hair tugged and plaited and it was all she could do to sit through a dress being pulled over her head and laced up. Lady Moira wasn’t as annoying as Ciri thought she would be but _holy shit_ this woman could talk! She talked constantly even when it was obvious Ciri was _not_ listening to her.

“You’re a lucky girl, Cirilla-”

“Just Ciri, if it pleases m’Lady.” Ciri mumbled as an older woman was bustling about looking for something for Ciri to wear with the dress she wore. It was a dark blue with green tulle and trim with embossed buttons along the boning, the sleeves had wider ends and the shoulders weren’t puffed out, odd given it was the style.

Lady Moira nodded, giving Ciri a patient look, “Then just Moira will do for me. As I was saying, you’re a lucky girl.”  
“I think so but why do you?” Ciri asked, turning on the stool when a pair of small heeled shoes were offered to her, she frowned doubtfully at them but allowed herself to be helped down and she put her foot in one.

“You walk about in trousers and travel about with two very attractive men all the day.” Moira shrugged as best she could in the restrictive dress, “Not that you would find your fathers-”

“Geralt and Jaskier aren’t my parents.” Ciri said quickly, trying not to roll her eyes.

“Oh. I only thought-” Moira shrugged again, picking up a slight white-gold chain with a cut crystal pendant, “Anyway, I only get to wear trousers when I go hawking with my brothers . . . not that that will happen anymore . . . “  
Ciri turned to look at Moira as she adjusted her feet in the shoes that were slightly too large, the Lady looked sadly at the pendant, “You don’t want to get married?”

Moira blinked at her in surprise, “Oh! Don’t mistake my wistfulness for reluctance, I’m very excited to marry his lordship as we have known each other for some time! It’s only that my brothers are on the other side of the continent now . . . so I might not see them for a very long, long time. And I am sad for that. His Lordship is not a fan of hunting much, he finds the sight of animal blood upsetting . . . and I don’t like going alone or with just servants to gawk and gawp like a school of fish,” She snorted, looking at Ciri, “And what fun is it to go out and do something with so much margin for error if no one is going to jab fun at you? They fear the hangman’s rope too much to even call me a fool for mistaking a clump of leaves for a rabbit, how much fun is that?”

Ciri nodded sympathetically, “Not much fun t’all, I’d say, Moira.”

“Exactly.” Moira shook her head, her long ringlets bounced about her shoulders, “Boring, dull, completely devoid of anything that would have given the whole event any mirth or fun. And they don’t let me ride too fast or too far . . . What’s the point of a horse if you can’t get it to go as fast as it can through an open field?” Moira blinked and tilted her head, “Oh but you do make a lovely picture in that color.”

Ciri looked down shyly and smoothed the skirts slightly, “Thank you, Moira.”

“Now, let’s go to supper!” Moira offered a fan and her arm to Ciri.

Ciri sighed through her nose, took the fan and the Lady’s arm, “If this ends up in my epic ballad . . . “

* * *

Geralt faltered, grabbing Jaskier by the front of his tunic and they both halted as Ciri and Lady Moira made their entrance, “ . . . well.”

Lady Moira was swept up by her fiance, Lord Yurgin, a rather portly young man with bright blue eyes, a smiling face and a shock of red curls oiled down to keep them flat to his head. The young couple kissed quickly on the lips, giggling to each other as they took their seats, whispering like conspiring children.

Jaskier’s mouth dropped open and he smiled widely, waiting until her ladyship sat before he made a beeline for the girl who was looking about uncertainly, “That can’t be our Cirilla!”

Ciri turned, gripping her skirts as she huffed her way over, she looked up at Geralt who was also bathed and wearing his nicest tunic, she scowled, “You are evil and must be destroyed.”  
“You look beautiful.” Geralt said, smiling fondly down at her, “Every inch a lady of the-”

“Ohhh! I wish Yen were here!” Jaskier bit his lip and hopped a bit, “She would _die_ to see this!”

“Both of you are on my list!” Ciri snapped and took her seat next to Geralt with some difficulty, she frowned when Jaskier swept off again, “Where’s he going?”

“He’s the entertainment,” Geralt helped Ciri scoot her chair in and took his, pouring himself some beer, “Technically his contract doesn’t start until the rest of the guests get here tomorrow but he thought to get his audience warmed up a bit.”

“Oh.” Ciri watched eagerly as food platters for the first course were set down, her attention shifted completely and she speared a cut of pheasant with her fork, “I’m so hungry!”

Geralt watched her tuck in for a bit before joining in, Jaskier was playing a very happy little tune about springtime and pining for it to return as the snow was beginning to blow in harder. Four courses were gone through and Geralt was just settling in his seat to doze over beer when a dance was called and a flurry of chairs being pushed back with grumbles over full stomachs interrupted him. Well, that and Ciri insistently tugging on his tunic sleeve, “Hm?”

“Let’s go before we’re asked to da-”

“Cirilla! Come join us!” Moira called from the floor just as Jaskier was launching the musicians into a waltz.

Ciri’s freckles were soon obscured by a flush of color and she looked at Geralt, “I _suppose_ it would be _rude_ to deny her ladyship something on the eve of her engagement party, wouldn’t it?”

Geralt blinked then grimaced apologetically and got to his feet, “C’mon, I didn’t intend for you to suffer this much alone.”

“We’re going?” Ciri asked hopefully, taking his hand when he held it out but he steered her toward the floor.

“No, we’re dancing.” Geralt slid her feet onto his and adjusted her hands properly.

Ciri was still flushed as the Witcher turned her around the dance-floor, glancing about at other people then at Jaskier who was completely in his element, his face lit up and a smile was so plastered to his face one might think he was into his cups but his melodic tenor flitted about the vaulted ceiling like a delicate bird and Ciri found herself completely entranced as she saw his skill and ability bloom. She tightened her hold on Geralt slightly to keep her balance through a full turn that she hadn’t been paying attention to, “He-”

“I know.” Geralt nodded, smiling as well, “Our Jaskier is some talent, isn’t he?”

Ciri hummed in agreement, adjusting her hands again and looking up at Geralt as they turned in another circle, the music encircling them and she put her head down on Geralt’s middle as the song slowed even further then the dance was over and a more lively tune began. Ciri and Geralt sat this one out, watching instead as the newly engaged Lord and Lady danced, both laughing uproariously, Lord Yurgin even managed to lift Lady Moira above his head in a deceptively graceful pirouette thanks to his prodigious girth.

“They seem happy.” Ciri murmured as she popped a grape in her mouth and chewed it slowly.

“Not all arranged marriages are misery and disappointment.” Geralt shrugged, plucking a grape for himself.

“All the same, they can have it.” Ciri shook her head, eating two more grapes, “Do you and Yen and Jask plan on getting married?”

Geralt shook his head, “No.”

“Oh.” Ciri glanced at Jaskier as the bard joined the dance while singing and playing his lute, “Laying it on a bit thick, isn’t he?”

“Always.” Geralt smiled fondly at his bard, his yellow eyes tracking Jaskier’s movements as a seasoned hunter could.

“You do love him though, don’t you, Geralt? You love them both?” Ciri asked, smiling up at him, “He’s your dandelion and she’s your dark kitten.”

Geralt’s cheeks flushed slightly and he cleared his throat, “I think it’s time you were off to bed, isn’t it?”

Ciri lolled her head back on her neck, “ _Finally_ , I thought you’d never ask!”

“Come on, I’ll get someone to help you out of that dress.” Geralt straightened and stretched.

“Can you help me? I’m tired of strangers poking and prodding and stuffing me into uncomfortable, itchy garments.” Ciri mumbled, knuckling her eyes and smearing the little bit of koehl they’d drawn above her eyelid.

Geralt grimaced and cleared his throat, “I’ll try, removing dresses like this are a bit beyond me.”

Ciri frowned, “ . . . what the hell does that mean?”

Geralt coughed, “Too much beer. Come on, bedtime.”

* * *

Ciri sighed in relief as she stood in just the slip of the dress, rubbing her sides as she drew in a deep breath, “You have _no idea_ how much of a relief that is!”

“You don’t have anything to sleep in, do you?” Geralt glanced at the little satchel Ciri had brought with her, it had just a small waterskin and a pair of small apple cores in it now.

“ . . . oh, uh, no.”

Geralt sighed and pulled one of his clean shirt out and dropped it over her head as she stepped out of the slip, “I’m leaving _very_ early tomorrow if this weather keeps up, no telling what it might drive down from the mountains so I suggest you getting right to sleep, alright? Cold breakfast in the morning.”

Ciri grumbled as she settled the much-too-large shirt on her thin frame and crawled under the heavy blankets, “Geralt?”

“Yes?” Geralt tucked the blanket securely around her, glancing at the small fireplace in the main room.

“Can I tell you something?” Ciri clutched the blankets and pulled them up to her chin.

Geralt sat down, putting his hands on either side of her and leaning his weight into the mattress, “Anything.”

“I’m . . . sorta _glad_ that I broke the rules and followed you, is that bad?” Ciri fidgeted and looked up at him with her large blue eyes.

Geralt grimaced and leaned forward to say in a hushed tone, “Can you keep a secret?”

“Mhm.” Ciri nodded earnestly.

Geralt glanced at the doorway then back to her, “ . . . I am a little bit too. Now,” He sat back, his voice no longer hushed, “You’re still going to be punished when we get home, that much hasn’t changed, but . . . “ Here he smiled slightly, inclining his head to bump their foreheads together lightly, “I’m glad I’ll have company on the road. Gets lonely talking to just Roach and the forest.”

“I’ll bet.” Ciri put her arms around Geralt’s neck and buried her face in his white hair then settled back.

“Alright, cub, time for sleep.” Geralt smoothed some of her hair back and stood up, “Good night.”

“Night.” Ciri rolled onto her side, bundling the blankets around her as she did so.

* * *

Geralt closed the door quietly behind him and wandered back out into the halls, searching for Jaskier who he found rather easily if he listened a spell for loud laughter, the twang of a lute and giggling.

Jaskier was lounging back with the Lord and Lady, various other guests milled about or were passed out in chairs, swapping tales over too much wine so that the bard was swaying slightly in his seat, “Geralt! Gerry, my sweet butcher, there you are! Is our little ruffian locked away in her chambers?”

Geralt frowned and cocked his head, “I apologize to the Lord and Lady but it is late and I’m to be on the road before first watch so I will give my congratulations on your engagement and wish you both happiness.” He bowed a little stiffly and the noble couple were smiling and very drunk, “But I must retire.”

Yurgin got to his feet and went to a table of food, tearing the back leg off a suckling pig and laughing merrily, slapping Geralt on the back, “Geralt of Rivia, my good fellow! We simply _must_ insist on hiring Master Dandelion here for the Winter’s Ball at my father’s castle! He’s marvelously entertaining! Pork, my dear?”

Moira smiled, holding a wine glass with both hands, her cheeks a bit flushed, “Yes please, Yurgy! Oh! And we need him for the wedding!”

Jaskier’s face reddened and he ducked his head to preen in mock modesty, “Please m’Lord, m’Lady, you’re embarrassing me! I’m but a simple bard.”

Yurgin chuckled, setting the leg aside, using a slim knife to cut off strips of the tenderloin and set it on a plate with grapes and a small wedge of cheese that he served to Moira with a comical flourish, “Oh pish posh, how many other people have eye-witness accounts to Witcher adventures? Besides Witchers themselves but you lot and your guild hold those tales tight.”

“You do spin a fantastic yarn.” Moira agreed, spearing some pork with her small fork, “And your voice is pleasing.”

Jaskier blushed further but Geralt stepped in, “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to make arrangements, now I’m going to retire for the night.”

“Good night, Master Geralt.” Yurgin settled back down next to Moira with the pig leg in hand.

“Good night!” Moira smiled, dabbing juice from her chin.

Jaskier stood and followed Geralt down a corridor, the bard grabbed the Witcher around his waist and pressed his face into the white-haired man’s back, “Geralt . . . this isn’t the way to our room!”

Geralt turned and slid his hands down to Jaskier’s belt, “I know, Ciri is sleeping and I’d rather not disturb her. Also, i need to sleep so I don’t have much time.”

“Time for wh- oh!” Jaskier watched Geralt get on his knees, his breeches dropped to his knees after the Witcher’s deft hands made short work of the belt. Jaskier slid his hand down over Geralt’s head, “Geralt . . . “

“Shh, I intended to do something with you already, Ciri interrupted my plans a bit so this will have to do.” Geralt pressed a kiss to the wing of bone that was Jaskier’s left hip.

Jaskier was already half-hard and he let his head rest back on the rough stone wall, “Curses! Well . . . I suppose the memory of your lips will have to suffiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihello!”

Geralt rolled his eyes as he slid the bard’s cock deeper into his mouth, bobbing his head slowly. He’ll admit to how much he’ll miss Jaskier for the week in a moment, for now his nose was buried in the thatch of brown curls, his fingers stretching up to tug and stroke Jaskier’s balls. The Witcher felt Jaskier’s hands sinking into his hair and then pull him down further while his hips thrust insistently. Geralt grunted and gave Jaskier’s thigh a smack to settle him a bit so he wouldn’t _choke_.

Jaskier panted, biting his lip for a moment, “S-Sorry, sorry, I just . . . you’ve done so much . . . I’m here . . . I’m singing and happy . . . my prick is in your throat . . . “

Geralt rolled his eyes and focused on his breathing, Jaskier was feeling some pretty powerful emotions but he could tell it was probably a lot to do with how many empty wine bottles scattered about his feet when Geralt found him. Geralt felt Jaskier’s penis throb then the bard breathed out and relaxed, softening without ejaculating. The Witcher wiped drool from his mouth once Jaskier pulled out, he stood and carefully tucked Jaskier back in his pants, “Are you alright?”

Jaskier breathed out softly with his eyes almost closed, leaning all his weight into the wall, his throat jumped slightly, “ . . . and Ciri looked so beautiful . . . seeing you both dancing and . . . how things could be . . . “

“Alright, time for sleep.” Geralt tried to pull Jaskier off the wall but it would seem the structure was the only thing holding him up and the bard almost fell over, “Past time . . . “

Jaskier snuffled and tears started to well up in his eyes, “You don’t under _stand_! G-Geralt, it was like a vision, a dream!”

Geralt frowned, “Jask, it was a party and I blew you, calm down-”

Jaskier started crying, “I’m sorry, I-I’m a bit drunk . . . “

“I can tell. Alright.” Geralt scooped Jaskier up and started to carry him, “You’re very tired.”

“Mhm . . . “ Jaskier snuggled into Geralt’s chest, clutching at the neck of his tunic, “Do you . . . do you _have_ to go home? C-Can’t you stay with me for the week?”

“I have to take Ciri home, Jaskier, I’ll be back when the party is over to come get you.” Geralt murmured, adjusting Jaskier’s weight and tucking Jaskier under his chin securely, “Shh, my dandelion, you’re just drunk.”

Jaskier huffed, closing his eyes slightly and wiping at his eyes, “I’m sorry . . . I know that I just . . . “

“I know.” Geralt smiled slightly as he eased their bedroom door open, glancing into Ciri’s room to make sure she was sleeping then he tried to put Jaskier on the bed but the bard clung tighter, “Jask, I can’t take your clothes off if you keep holding onto me.”

Jaskier sighed and released his grip, allowing Geralt to set him on his back on the bed, he watched with lower lids while Geralt undid the toggles of his frock coat, “If . . . Ciri wasn’t here, would you stay?”

“No, you know I don’t much care for these kinds of ‘dos.” Geralt murmured, sliding Jaskier’s arms out of the sleeves.

Jask pouted and closed his eyes, “Alright, then how about what you had planned for me if Ciri wasn’t in the next room?”

“Mostly just sex until you fall asleep.” Geralt shrugged, pulling Jaskier’s boots off and setting them aside and rubbing the bard’s feet.

Jaskier arched his back under the magic Geralt was doing to his feet, popping his toes one at a time and massaging his arches, “Luckily for you, it wouldn’t be long . . . I’m about to drop soon . . . “

Geralt leaned over and kissed Jaskier’s forehead, “You practically _glowed_ tonight, my dandelion, go to sleep.” Jaskier breathed out softly, his eyes closed and his head settled back into the pillows. He was drifting on a cloud fueled by wine and giggles, he held Geralt’s hand loosely and hummed softly while Geralt stripped him down to his small clothes then nudged him onto his side. Geralt undressed and crawled in behind the bard to spoon and snuggle him.

* * *

Jaskier was sitting up groggily next to an equally groggy Ciri while Geralt, already dressed, moving about to get things ready to go. He squatted down in front of Ciri, patting her knee, “Come on, Cirilla, up and at ‘em.”

Ciri yawned, “Right . . . just . . . point me at ‘‘em’ and I’ll up them to death . . . “

Jaskier yawned as well, “Breakfast won’t be on for another three hours . . . why am I awake?”

Geralt squeezed Jask’s cheeks between his big gauntlets, “Because you want to see us off, don’t you?”

Jaskier stuck his tongue out, “Tha’s awgully pres’mp’ious ub you.”

Ciri giggled and wiped at her tired eyes, “Speaking of breakfast . . . “

“Don’t worry, I left our glop at home.” Geralt patted her shoulder, “The cooks packed us a dry breakfast for the road.”

“Hmm . . . “ Ciri leaned her head into his stomach and pretended to start snoring.

Geralt chuckled and picked her up, slinging the girl over his shoulder, “I won’t drag you away from the warm bed, say your goodbyes and go back to sleep, my dandelion.”

Jaskier yawned hugely and got up on his knees, pulling Geralt into a soft kiss, breaking it briefly to turn his head and deepen the kiss a bit, “Be safe, keep our princess safe and I’ll see you in a week, my sweet butcher.”

Geralt rubbed their noses gently together, his eyes softly closed, “Don’t tell men with knives too many of your limericks, hm?”

Jaskier shoved him away and flopped back into the pillows, “I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

Geralt chuckled, “Say goodbye, Ciri.”

Ciri hung limply over Geralt’s shoulder, “Hmmbye, Jask . . . have fun . . . “

Jaskier sat up, holding his hands out, “One more before you go.”

Geralt flipped Ciri and held her under her arms out to Jaskier, “One more.”

Jaskier leaned forward and hugged Ciri tightly and receiving a kiss on the cheek, “You be good and keep our big papa bear safe, alright?”

“Mhm.” Ciri snuggled into Jaskier and whined when Geralt lifted her out of Jaskier’s arms and back onto his shoulder, “I wanna stay and be warm and go to the party . . . “

“If you stay, you’ll have to wear another dress.” Geralt cocked an eyebrow and picked up his cloak and satchel.

Ciri let her arms hang down Geralt’s back and she huffed, “ . . . nevermind.”

“Thought so.” Geralt cocked an eyebrow and smirked, patting her back, “See you in a week, Jask.”

Jaskier mumbled something and snuggled into the pillows, if Geralt’s dirty shirt from yesterday was clutched in his hand pressed to his face, the Witcher chose not to notice.

* * *

“Your bag, young miss.” A servant held the little satchel out to Ciri.

Ciri rubbed her eyes as she sat up in Roach’s saddle, she was wearing a heavy, fur-lined winter cloak with matching hard leather boots and gloves (compliments of the Lady Moria), “Oh thank you.” She opened the flap and inside were two pinkish-white winter apples, a wedge of white cheese wrapped in paper, a few thick slices of nut-bread, a little wax-paper packet of candied nuts and her waterskin was full of cider. Ciri’s eyes widened and she slung the strap over her shoulder, “Tell Lady Moira that I was very pleased to be her guest and that I look forward to seeing her again!”

The servant bent at the waist as Geralt took the reins from the stable boy, he patted Roach’s neck, “Ready to go?”

“I suppose I am- Go, Roach, Go!” She snatched the reins and urged Roach forward but the mare stayed right where she was.

Geralt cocked an eyebrow, “ . . . with me.”

“Missed your chance, we could have made _him_ walk . . . “ Ciri grumbled, watching Geralt climb into the saddle, his arms wrapping around her and he swaddled his long black cloak around them as the gate opened and through the gray dimness of the beyond-early morning sky, they could see the forest was covered in a light dusting of snow with the branches barely rustling in the stillness.

Ciri curled about to be sideways in the saddle and snuggled back into Geralt’s stomach, “ . . . can you hear anything?”

Geralt looked down at her and pulled her cloak’s hood up, “Don’t worry, the snow wasn’t bad enough that it would drive anything down the mountains or out of the swamps. You’re safe.”

Ciri nodded slowly but her eyes flickered about the forest, her tiredness giving her more caution than the previous day, “Okay . . . “

Geralt urged Roach onto the road with the click of his tongue.

* * *

“Ciri . . . “ 

Ciri’s eyes fluttered open and she opened her mouth but Geralt’s gloved hand pressed to her mouth and she squeaked in surprise, “Hmph?”

“Shh . . . look.” Geralt jerked his chin ahead of them, his yellow eyes hard and narrowed.

Ciri slowly turned her gaze to the direction indicated and her breath caught, it was three dark shapes several meters away. At first glance it would seem to be a pair of wolves with a younger one but these wolves were crouching and their front paws weren’t paws . . . they were hands. Werewolves. She leaned back into Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes, his hand still pressed to her face.

“Shh, we’re downwind,” Geralt murmured, “And they haven’t noticed us, just wait. If they move on, we’ll keep going. If they don’t . . . stay on Roach.”

Ciri nodded slowly, her hands shakily gripping the front of the saddle and her heart was slamming into her chest. She leaned back more into Geralt, listening to his slow heartbeat and using it to try and keep her own heart level as the Witcher slowly backed Roach off the road to more cover. She squeezed her eyes shut and quickly pressed one of her hands to Geralt’s as she made a soft noise out of fear.

“Shhshh, Ciri, it’s alright, they haven’t noticed us yet,” Geralt murmured, shifting his feet out of the stirrups. They had noticed them. The werewolves weren’t loitering on the road for their health, they were a mated pair and their cub and they were planning out their attack. He hoped if he moved Roach off the open road, he could distract the lycanthropes for Ciri to be far enough away, “Just . . . a moment . . . more . . . “ he kept Ciri tucked against his chest while he slowly pulled the small cork out of a vial of black liquid and held it at the ready until he could clearly hear slow approaching steps toward them, they were stalking the Witcher and his charge.

Ciri slowly moved her leg over the saddle to straddle it and moved her hand back down to the saddle and waited, she was shaking and fighting tears, her breath starting to come in sharp puffs against the leather glove until it was slowly lowered, “G-Geralt . . . “ She hissed.

Geralt tossed the potion back and carefully reached for his silver sword, he could see the male circling to the left and the cub was on their side of the road while the female was coming directly down the road. Clearly the female was a distraction while the male was positioning himself to lunge at their flank. Geralt leaned to the side and undid his cloak, it dropped off his shoulders and all hell broke loose. 

The female shot past them just as the cub leapt at Roach’s front legs while the male dropped to the ground to lunge. Geralt threw himself to the side off the saddle and drew his sword. Roach made a noise and reared to get away and then kicked back, making Ciri scream in surprise but she held on, the mare danced out of the way just as the female was turning and coming back for them.

Geralt swung and sliced the sword into the cub’s side, cutting a thin line but the small werewolf gave a pained squeal and whined, it curled in on itself and hurried into the undergrowth. The Witcher’s eyes were completely black and he turned in time for the male to barrel into him instead of the horse. Geralt roared as his back slammed into a tree, he tried to get his sword between them and pressed the flat of the blade’s tip against the werewolf’s muzzle and the beast howled and shook its head, backing away. Geralt got back in formation for another attack when a streak of motion caught his attention, he turned and the female was running full-tilt toward Roach and Ciri. He snarled, glancing down at the male for a brief moment before doing a decidely stupid thing. Geralt turned his back on the monster and took off toward the female.

Ciri reached for Roach’s reins, her hand swiping at them but she was just short, she let go of the saddle and leaned forward to try and grasp them as they lay across the mare’s neck but well . . . Ciri had a brief moment to realize the stupidity of her actions as Roach’s footing became a little uneasy in the unfamiliar, snowy environment and she felt her body sliding out of the saddle. She saw the side of Roach’s neck and thought ‘well shit’ just as she hit the ground, rolled and laid there with the wind whistling out of her lungs and leaving her dazed.

“Ciri!” Geralt shouted just as the female skidded to a fault as she no longer had to run to catch up to her prey, he leapt at her back swinging the sword and lopping off her head.

There was a strangled howling sound and the male was coming for them both now, his mate twitching and dying in the snow. A moment later the cub was rushing out of the brush as well, blood soaking his side from the wound. 

Geralt looked between the two enraged wolves and grimaced, “Fuck . . . “

Ciri struggled to get up just as she saw the two wolves jump at Geralt, she wheezed and was on her knees, “ . . . Geralt . . . “ the cub wolf was latched onto Geralt’s sword arm, he was pulling his steel sword out and he tried to stab the cub but the male barrelled into his back and bit his shoulder. The Witcher yelled and dropped his steel sword, punched the cub in the eye until it released his arm and cut it’s torso in half with the silver sword. 

Geralt grunted as the wolf on his back lifted him and slammed him onto the ground on his stomach. Geralt tried to breathe in as his face was ground into the dirt, he scrambled for his sword then he heard a scream and the weight on his back was suddenly lifted. Geralt lifted his head and looked around in time to see the male werewolf shaking his head and trying to get to his feet a few meters back then Geralt turned and there was Ciri, panting as she tried to hold the silver sword but it was heavy. The Witcher’s arm and shoulder were bloodied and he tried to get up but a wave of pain and nausea rushed over him, but the male werewolf was turning and coming back for them, his mate and cub lay dead and his mouth was open in a terrible, rage-filled roar.

Ciri screamed, her face contorted in anger as her fear evaporated, tears streaming down her face and with a great effort, she lifted the sword just as the wolf leapt, “ **STAY AWAY FROM MY PAPA**!!”

“ **CIRI**!” Geralt yelled, the wolf dropped from the air with the sword sticking out of the back of its neck, it had no head, the skull shattered into a red mist. He dragged himself upright and hurried over to shove the twitching, gurgling carcass to the side and there was Ciri but she shot to her feet and started wrenching and pulling on the sword in the beast’s neck, “Ciri! Ciri, are you-”

She left off on the silver sword and picked up the hilt of the steel, dragging the blade over and she started trying to stab at it but she couldn’t lift the sword, “FUCKING MONSTERS AND THEIR FUCKING ATTACKING RANDOM FUCKING PEOPLE ON THE FUCKING ROAD FOR NO FUCKING REASON WE WEREN’T EVEN LOOKING AT YOU YOU STUPID FUCKING ANIMAL! NOW WE’VE HAD TO GO AND KILL YOU AND YOUR WIFE AND YOUR BABY! WHY DID YOU DO THAT? WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST GO-”

“Alright, alright,” Geralt wrestled the sword out of the girl’s hand, “Shh, alright, I know, come on, back on the horse, we need to go now.”

Ciri was sobbing and she punched the dead wolf’s shoulder as Geralt tugged the silver sword out, “We didn’t _have_ to do it! Why didn’t they just g-go away? Now they’re dead!”

“I know.” Geralt breathed out, his head tilting back, “We need to go, I’m injured, Ciri and Jaskier has the only way to get a hold of Yennefer for a portal. We need to _go_.”

Ciri scrambled to her feet and wiped at her face then hurried to get Roach, bringing the mare back over and she hurried to climb onto the mare with Geralt laboriously getting in behind her, “I’m sorry, let’s go.”

“You’ll need to hold the reins, can you do that?” Geralt said softly, his eyes, now yellow again, flitted to the male werewolf with it’s missing head.

“Yes, I’ll get us home, don’t close your eyes.” Ciri said seriously and gave Roach a little nudge with her heel.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Geralt grimaced, he was in a lot of pain.

“You won’t become a werewolf, will you?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Geralt closed his eyes only to grunt when Ciri elbowed him, “Sorry, I’m fine.”

Ciri nodded, “Stay awake.” She didn’t know much about medicinal remedies but staying awake was generally a good idea so she stuck by it as she lead Roach back home, quickly but not so quickly as to jostle her injured charge.

**Author's Note:**

> Funny story, Ciri's experience falling off Roach is based on the last time I fell off my own horse. Difference being I took a hoof to the crown of my skull then got the wind knocked out of me. And I wasnt being pursued by werewolves but I definitely thought 'well shit's as the side of my horses neck went by.


End file.
